


Jeeves and the Fish Tail

by thesadchicken



Category: Jeeves & Wooster, Jeeves - P. G. Wodehouse, WODEHOUSE P. G. - Works
Genre: (poorly) illustrated by yours truly, Alternate Universe - Merpeople, M/M, MerMay, MerMay 2019, The mermaid au no one asked for
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-03
Updated: 2019-05-12
Packaged: 2020-02-16 16:33:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 2,649
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18695230
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thesadchicken/pseuds/thesadchicken
Summary: A series of short stories where either Jeeves or Bertie is a merman. Expect fish-puns, underwater shenanigans, and fluff.Almost every story is (poorly) illustrated by yours truly.





	1. Fish-tailed Bertie and Human Jeeves

**Author's Note:**

> This started as a drawing I posted on [indeedsir](https://indeedsir.dreamwidth.org/), and then I thought why not share the rest of it here. I might write more chapters (I have an actual story in mind but I’m not sure I have the time to write it). In any case: happy mermay!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bertie Wooster is a well-intentioned, wealthy young merman, who has a habit of getting himself into trouble. He can always count on Jeeves – his personal merman’s gentleman, as it were – to get him out. These are the misadventures of fish-tailed Bertie and his trusty Human valet, Jeeves.

From the moment I woke up, lifted the old bean off the jellyfish and yawned, I knew that today would be a cracking good day. Sunlight from above painted the ocean floor and all the fish were looking bronzed and fit. There was a certain _je ne sais quoi_ in the currents that promised excitement – not the rummy kind, mind you; I have quite enough of that through my relatives, aunts and old school chums. No, this was just the reasonable excitement that any young merman would experience at the beginning of summer.

With that thought in my head, I swam up to the surface, where I was greeted with the sweet scents of breakfast.

You see, Jeeves – my man, the Human who serves as my personal merman’s gentleman – is nothing short of a genius. A proper artist with eggs and toast, don’t you know.

‘What ho, Jeeves,’ I what-hoed cheerily as I broke the surface.

Sitting on a small boulder, reading a book, Jeeves stood up when he saw me and approached the little pool of deep water I swam in. This was our usual point of _rendezvous_ , as it were.

‘Good morning, sir,’ he said, bowing his head gracefully.

On my favourite rock – where I had spent many a happy hour basking in the sun or watching ships sail by – was my breakfast, laid out on a porcelain plate. I ate voraciously. Yes, Jeeves was a genius, but I owed him much more than the meals – no matter how mouth-watering – that he so skilfully prepared.

‘Have I remarked, Jeeves, upon your knack for metaphorically fishing the young master out of the metaphorical soup?’

‘Many times, sir.’

‘Yes, but not of late. I ought to do so every day.’

‘That’s very kind of you to say, sir.’

‘Really, just yesterday I spotted young Bingo and his fiancée swimming around hand in hand, tails entwined like they were the only creatures under the sea, and I thought to myself, ‘had it not been for Jeeves, their love would never have seen the light of day!’’

‘A heart-warming thought, sir.’

‘Indeed.’

I sipped my coffee. Suddenly, I had one of those dashed horrifying thoughts that seem to attack a fellow out of nowhere.

‘I wonder, Jeeves…’

‘Yes, sir?’

‘All this intelligence and brainpower of yours… What do you do to get like that? You must eat a lot of fish. Do you eat a lot of fish, Jeeves?’

‘No, sir.’

‘I bally well hope not. I don’t take kindly to being looked upon as some sort of succulent snack.’

‘Do you not, sir?’

‘Jeeves!’

‘Very good, sir.’

 


	2. Merman Bertie, Human Jeeves

‘I say, will you show them to me, Jeeves?’

The shadow of a smile played upon his finely chiselled features.

‘Very good, sir.’

 


	3. Sailor Bertie, Merman Jeeves

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Written for a prompt by [cuddyclothes](https://archiveofourown.org/users/cuddyclothes/pseuds/cuddyclothes) on [indeedsir](https://indeedsir.dreamwidth.org/) : "Either Bertie or Jeeves is a merman. The other finds that mermen exist and falls madly in love with the merman. What happens after that is up to the writer."

‘I say!’ I cried, ‘Did you see that big purple fish? It just jumped out of the water!’

‘Not now, Bertie,’ said Oofy Prosser.

‘We’re busy,’ added Barmy Fotheringay-Phipps. And with that they returned to their infernal banjo scratching, making ghastly squeaking sounds and eliciting cries of agony from the seagulls above.

As accustomed as young Bertram is to this sort of unkind dismissal, I must be honest: it stung. I vowed with all my wounded pride that, should the big fish show its tail again, I would not tell a single one of my crewmates, no matter how wondrous said b. f. turned out to be. I would keep it all to myself – my own little secret, don’t you know – and if I caught the fish I would eat it alone while they begged for scraps. It would serve them right.

Oh, dash it. I’ve done it again. I’ve begun right in the middle of the story. I shall have to hark back a bit. I suppose the affair may be said to have started with Oofy Prosser’s idea. As captain of the _Drones_ – and the wealthiest man aboard our lovely ship – old Oofy’s ideas were generally met with approval and enthusiasm. He went off on ludicrous ventures, if ludicrous is the word I want, and the rest of the crew followed, clinging to Oofy’s side like barnacles to the ship’s hull.

Naturally, when he suggested we give up being sailors to become travelling minstrels instead, the chaps clapped and celebrated, and the banjos were out in a jiffy, and they played “Haul on the Bowline” until I thought I’d gone deaf. Having a slightly more musical ear and the fingers of a pianist, this Wooster could not bring himself to join them in their mistreatment of the noble banjo, or in the monkey-screeching they called singing.

So I waited by the railings, glancing out at the endless blue ocean with a sigh of forbear-whatsit. Enter big purple fish, and that’s where I started.

I was still ruminating over the injustice inflicted upon me, and how bitterly my crewmates would regret having shunned me, when I saw it again. Purple, and enormous, by Jove!

I leaned over the railings and squinted in the sunlight. It wasn’t a trout – too big to be a fluke, too graceful for an eel, too colourful for salmon. Perhaps a swordfish? Or an odd dolphin? But it was gone just as quickly as it had appeared. I scratched the old bean in wonder and waited, hoping this maritime marvel would show itself again.

I was startled by a respectful cough from below. When I looked down, my mouth fell open and I jolted in surprise. I must have looked rather like a fish myself, flopping on the deck breathlessly, eyes bulging. But had you seen him as he appeared to me then, you would have understood my wonderment.

Staring up at me courteously was a man, only he wasn’t just a man. His skin was porcelain white, his hair night black, his lips pursed in a charming half-smile. That would have been enough to send the Wooster heart racing, but there was more: splashing in the water behind him was the bright purple fish tail, and the fins at the top of it curled gracefully around his chest as I gawked.

‘I say!’ I I-sayed in utter astonishment.

‘Pardon the intrusion, sir,’ the man – _merman!_ – spoke, ‘My curiosity may at times seem indelicate, but I noticed you did not join the other Humans in their… merriment.’

It was rummy, the way he said it – his tone did not change, his face was impassive, but he gave young Bertram the distinct impression that he thought his chums’ merriment was the most repugnant abomination that had ever been unleashed on land or sea. I might have agreed with the chap, but I was still too stunned to speak. I gaped.

‘Forgive me, sir, it was not my place to inquire,’ he said, and with an elegant flourish he disappeared under water.

‘Wait!’ I croaked, gripping the railing desperately. ‘Don’t go!’

He shimmied back to the surface, and I watched as beads of salt water slithered down his chest. ‘Yes, sir?’

‘Frightfully spiffing tail you have!’ I exclaimed, ‘I saw you from a distance and thought it was striking, but up-close – by Jove, it’s a work of art.’

The merman didn’t smile, exactly, but the corners of his lips turned upwards and he suddenly looked very pleased. It was dashed attractive. ‘That’s very kind of you to say, sir.’

‘What’s your name?’ I asked, heart thumping in my chest.

‘Reginald Jeeves, sir.’

‘I’m Bertie Wooster. Nice to meet you, Jeeves. As to your query… well, between you and me, I quite prefer a song with a spot of philosophy; something to make you think, don’t you know.’

‘Indeed, sir.’

‘A song like “Sunny Disposih” or “Forty-Seven Ginger-Headed Sailors”. If you like I can sing it for you now.’

‘Now, sir?’

‘Yes. Have you ever heard a human sing, Jeeves?’

He did it again, that rummy thing that made me detect his disapproval without him having to openly divulge it. ‘I’m afraid I have, sir.’

‘Oh. I see. Yes, but you haven’t ever heard _me_ sing.’

‘No, sir.’

‘Would you like to?’

For a moment I thought he would refuse. But then his eyes softened and I felt warm under my collar as he looked at me. With infinite gentility, he said, ‘I would be honoured, sir.’

And that is the story of how I fell in love with a merman.

 


	4. Sailor Bertie, Merman Jeeves (part 2)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Written for cuddyclothes, who commented: "I hope you write the story of how they got together, if they did."

The sun was setting, casting coral-pink shadows over the beach and the sea beyond. The _Drones_ loomed over the small island harbour, empty and silent, its captain and crew out drinking and dancing – all except one.

He was lying on a rock, his hands behind his head, one leg crossed over the other. Waves lapped at his ankle, and the dying sun painted his face. I swam around him in slow circles, watching him smile at the sky. Bertie Wooster, my sailor boy.

‘Jeeves, how could I ever have doubted you?’

‘I could not say, sir.’ I raised my eyebrows, only slightly, but in truth I enjoyed this immensely.

‘That scheme of yours really worked – dashed good idea, to put the octopus in his trousers!’

‘Thank you, sir,’ I proudly tilted my chin upwards.

‘What would I do without you?’ he shook his head at this, as if to negate the very thought. ‘I often wonder what my life would be if I hadn’t found you.’

In reality, it was I who had found him. Driven by curiosity, I had swum up to him to ask why he stood away from his crewmates. But I did not correct him. I watched him sigh contentedly.

‘No, really, Jeeves. We’d probably be travelling minstrels instead of sailors – Heaven knows I’m grateful you wheedled old Oofy out of that one.’

He turned onto his side to look at me. I waved my tail in the water below, delighted to feel his soft blue eyes on me. He propped himself up on one elbow. ‘But it’s not just the knack you have for getting me out of trouble... I do notice the way you fuss over me.’

At this, I might have blushed, but I had trained myself to remain composed in his presence. Instead, I cocked my head to the side and pursed my lips, as if in thought. ‘Sir?’

‘Oh, you know: when you make those magical concoctions of yours to cure a good night of drinking; or when you straighten my uniform, or bring me seaweed balms for my sunburns.’

I crossed my arms over the edge of the rock, resting my chin on top of my hands. I truly thought he hadn’t noticed – he was an idle young man, prone to absent-mindedness, and I had assumed he took my small favours for granted. Not that I minded: I wouldn’t have resented him his carelessness, for I had grown fond of him, and “fussing over him” had become the focal point of my day.

But he noticed. It sent a shiver through my scales.

‘Why, just this morning you badgered me into getting rid of that polka dot scarf,’ he chuckled, and I wished I could capture that sweet sound in a seashell, to keep it with me at all times.

Instead, I wrinkled my nose at the mention of the offending item of clothing. ‘If I may be so bold, sir, it was hideous.’

‘A crime against all creatures blessed with eyesight, what?’ he teased me.

‘Precisely, sir,’ I pursed my lips, teasing him as well.

He was silent for a moment, then he reached one arm across the rock and dipped his fingers into the water. I watched the delicate arc of his wrist, bent like a swan’s neck.

‘Jeeves, old thing, can I see your… I mean to say, may you show me your – er, you know how I admire –’

I took pity on him and gently slid my tail up onto the rock. ‘Of course, sir.’

His cheeks and ears turned red. ‘Thank you,’ he whispered.

I had learned that Humans had more than one use for the word “tail”. While it amused me, it always embarrassed my young man. But that never stopped him from asking to see it – he was fascinated with the way the light caught on my scales, the curve of my fins, the deliberate undulating movements they made in the water.

‘I wonder if…’ he muttered, almost to himself.

And then he ran his fingers over my tail, and I closed my eyes. His human skin was dry and warm, soft against my sensitive scales. His hand slid over me, leaving sparks in its wake.

‘Jeeves…’ he said, shyly bringing his hand back to his chest, ‘I quite like the way you take care of me…’

A strange feeling overtook me, and I replied, ‘There is nothing I enjoy more than taking care of you, sir.’

He smiled at me. ‘Why do you call me “sir”?’

I knew he would ask me one day, but I had hoped it wouldn’t be today. ‘It comes naturally,’ I said. It was not a lie, but it was not the entire truth either.

I had been raised to revere and respect humans – never to consort with them. The title was the easiest way I had found to create a barrier between us, to dissuade either of us from considering the other as anything more than what he was: a Human, a merman.

‘You didn’t say it just then!’ he exclaimed with youthful glee, ‘Ha! Caught _la main dans le sac_ , eh Jeeves?’

But I had omitted the title purposefully. I would throw caution to the wind, to have him smile at me the way he did now. He leaned in and with newfound boldness he rested his hand on my purple tail. ‘I want us to remain like this always, Jeeves.’

The sun had disappeared under the horizon. I looked up at him. ‘Like this?’ I hated the disappointment in my voice.

He seemed to reconsider. ‘No, not like this,’ he said, ‘Like… _this_ …’ and he kissed me, lips soft and sweet and perfect.

For one beautiful, foolish moment I kissed him back, and I felt his Human air in my throat, the weakness of it swallowed whole by my powerful lungs and shot back into his body. If he felt the change, he did not show it. I pulled away slightly.

‘Jeeves,’ he whispered, blue eyes gleaming with wonder, and I was reminded of the first time he saw me. He often looked at me this way – with admiration and fondness, as if grateful for my very existence.

He leaned in for another kiss, but I gently turned away. ‘There is something you must know,’ I said.

‘What is it?’

I hesitated. ‘Do you trust me, sir?’

‘More than anyone. More than I trust myself.’

His youthful optimism, his kindness, his utter trust in me – I felt my heart burst with joy and pain and love. I closed the distance between us and kissed him again, pressing one hand against the back of his neck, grabbing the front of his shirt with the other. I pulled him into the water, never breaking the kiss, not for a second, and he held onto my shoulders, closing his eyes.

I heard the splash as his body hit the water, felt the bubbles and foam caressing our faces, and then we were alone underwater, and he was kissing me still.

When he pulled away to breathe he finally understood, and I saw his eyes widen, his hands wrap around his own throat. ‘I can breathe…’ he said, and then he laughed at his distorted underwater voice.

I held him tenderly by the waist and wrapped my tail around him. ‘No one must know,’ I told him.

He was smiling; still amazed at the small miracle I had performed. ‘Don’t worry, old thing,’ he placed a loving kiss on my nose, ‘it’s our little secret.’

 


End file.
